THOU Eternal One! whose presence
All space doth occupy, all motion guide;
Unchanged through Time's all ever-
lasting flight,
Thou only God: there is no God beside.
Being above all beings! Mighty One!
Whom none can comprehend, and none explore,
Embracing all, supporting, ruling o'er,
Being whom we call God, and know no more.
In its sublime research, philosophy
May measure out the Ocean deep, may count The sands, or the sun's rays; but God ! for Thee There is no weight or measure; none can mount Up to Thy mysteries; reason's brightest spark, Though kindled by Thy light, in vain would try To trace Thy counsels, infinite and dark;
And thought is lost ere thought can soar so high, Even like past moments in Eternity.
Thou from primeval nothingness did call,
First chaos, then existence,-Lord, on Thee
Eternity had its foundation; all
Spring forth from Thee; all light, joy, harmony,
Sole origin-all life, all beauty, Thine.
Thy word created all, and doth create ;
Thy splendour fills all space with rays divine;
Thou art and wert; and shalt be glorious! great!
Life-giving, life-sustaining, Potentate!
Thy chains th' immeasured universe surround; Upheld by Thee, by Thee inspired with breath! Thou the beginning with the end hast bound, And beautifully mingled life and death!
As sparks mount upwards from the fiery blaze, So suns are born, so worlds spring forth from Thee,
And as the spangles on the sunny rays
Shine around the silver snow, the pageantry
Of Heaven's bright army glitters in Thy praise.
A million torches, lighted by Thy hand,
Wander unwearied through the blue abyss ;
They own Thy power, accomplish Thy command
All gay with life, all eloquent with bliss.
What shall we call them? Piles of crystal light?
A glorious company of golden streams?
Lamps of celestial ether burning bright?
Suns lighting systems with their joyous beams?
But Thou to these art as the Moon to night.
Yes! As a drop of water in the sea,
All this magnificence in Thee is lost :-
What are ten thousand worlds compared to Thee?
What am I then? Heaven's unnumbered host,
Though multiplied by myriads and arrayed
In all the glory of sublimest thought,
Is but an atom in the balance weighed
Against Thy greatness-is a cypher brought
Against infinity! What am I then?-nought.
Nought-but the influence of Thy light divine,
Pervading worlds, hath reached my bosom too!
Yes, in my spirit doth Thy Spirit shine,
As shines the sunbeam in a drop of dew.
Nought-but I live, and on Hope's pinions fly
Eager towards Thy presence: for in Thee
I live, and breathe, and dwell: I lift my eye
Even to the throne of Thy divinity;
I am, O God, and surely Thou must be !
THOU ART! directing, guiding all. THOU ART!
Direct my understanding then to Thee ;
Control my spirit, guide my wandering heart ;
Though but an atom 'midst immensity,
Still I am something fashioned by Thy hand;
I hold a middle rank 'twixt Heaven and Earth,
On the last verge of mortal being stand,
Close to the realms where angels have their birth, Just on the bound'ries of the spirit land.
The chain of being is complete in me ;
In me is matter's last gradation lost,
And the next step is Spirit-Deity!
I can command the lightning and am dust!
A monarch and a slave; a worm, a God!
Whence came I here, and how? So marvellous,
Constructed and conceived? Unknown, this clod
Lives surely through some higher energy :
For from itself alone it could not be.
Creator! Yes-Thy wisdom and Thy word
Created me! Thou source of life and good!
Thou Spirit of my spirit and my Lord;
Thy light, Thy love, in their bright plenitude,
Fill'd me with an immortal song, to spring
O'er the abyss of death, and bade it wear
The garments of eternal day, and wing
Its heavenly flight beyond this little sphere,
Even to its source-to Thee-its Author there.
Though worthless are conceptions all of Thee-
Yet shall Thy shadowed image fill our breast,
And waft its homage to Thy Deity.
God! thus alone my lowly thoughts can soar,
Thus seek Thy presence-being wise and good.
'Midst Thy vast works, admire, obey, adore!
And when the tongue is eloquent no more,
The soul shall speak in tears of gratitude.
HERE is an unknown language spoken
By the loud winds that sweep the sky;
By the dark storm-clouds, thunder-
broken,
And waves on rocks that dash and die;
By the lone star, whose beams wax pale,
The moonlight sleeping on the vale,
The mariner's sweet distant hymn,
The horizon that before us flies,
The crystal firmament that lies
In the smooth sea reflected dim.
'Tis breathed by the cool streams at morning, The sunset on the mountain's shades,
The snow that day-break is adorning,
And eve that on the turret fades ;
The city's sounds that rise and sink,
The fair swan on the river's brink,
*The above magnificent ode, by a distinguished Russian poet, is said to have been translated into the Chinese and Tartar languages, and suspended in the Imperial Palace at Pekin, which was destroyed by the English armies in the war of 1860. It is also translated into the Japanese tongue, and hangs in the temple of Jeddo.
The quivering cypress' murmured sighs,
The ancient temple on the hill,
The solemn silence, deep and still,
Within the forest's mysteries.
Of Thee, O God! this voice is telling,
Thou who art Truth, Life, Hope, and Love;
On whom night calls from her dark dwelling,
To whom bright morning looks above;
Of Thee proclaimed by every sound,
Whom nature's all-mysterious round
Declares, yet not defines Thy light;
Of Thee, the abyss and source, whence all
Our souls proceed, in which they fall,
Who hast but one name-INFINITE.
All men on earth may hear and treasure
This voice, resounding from all time;
Each one, according to his measure,
Interpreting its sense sublime.
But ah! the more our spirits weak
Within its holy depths would seek,
The more this vain world's pleasures cloy;
A weight, too great for earthly mind,
O'erwhelms its powers, until we find
In solitude our only joy.
So when the feeble eyeball fixes
Its sight upon the glorious sun,
Whose gold-emblazoned chariot mixes
With rosy clouds that towards it run ;
The dazzled gaze all powerless sinks,
Blind with the radiance which it drinks,
And sees but gloomy specks float by:
And darkness indistinct o'ershade
Wood, meadow, hill, and pleasant glade,
And the clear bosom of the sky.
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